Lost souls.
– I see so many.
Lost souls.
– I have lost a few already.
They once were friends
…or lovers
– never steady.
I tried to hold them, help them
but my hands could not embrace the water like the sea…
I felt the drops escaping through my fingers.
I panicked!
I was full of fear.
I watched them shoot towards the floor and splinter.
With every drop dropped dead the end of water in my hands was near.
Lost souls.
– I feel their heavy
lost souls
that they carry.
The weight that drowns them makes them weary,
sucks out their energy and turns them cold.
Lost souls.
– Their vision blurry.
The hopes and dreams they once envisioned buried.
Don’t want my help,
– I’m now the furry, massive monster that could break their walls.
Lost souls.
– I see so many.
Lost souls.
– I have lost a few already.
I can myself be one.
– I’m never steady.
But I can hold myself now; bring me peace.
Now, when I hear one’s drops escaping
and see them turning themselves enemies,
I let them go – don’t want to feel them hating.
Their fate’s not my responsibility.
Lost souls.
Once I was sad to see them leaving.
Moved by their change my heart was bleeding.
I tried to help – they turned away from me.
Lost souls.
I let them go now.
Best to leave them be.
A poem by Pia Petersson
Photography by Pia Petersson
PiaPetePoetry 